


Blurred Lines

by Trychtopus



Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: Gay Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23894557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trychtopus/pseuds/Trychtopus
Summary: Two troubled souls find some unexpected comfort in one other despite the unlikely connection. Written for the Marbles shippers on discord.
Relationships: Charles Jones/Marshall Law
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Blurred Lines

_ How did it come to this? _

Slender fingers trailed along the topline of his shoulders, barely a ghost against his naked skin but screaming with confidence, with intent. He fought the shiver that threatened to give him away and instead squared his jaw, refusing to bely his tension so easily. Rain pounded against the window in front of him, backlit distantly by streaks of wild lightning that flared in the clouds. The touch at his back whispered its way past his nape to slip into the shock of raven hair still damp from his earlier shower and he grit his teeth, stubborn against the tingling spread of goosebumps that rose across his body. As the hand in his hair closed into a fist, gentle but firm against the base of his skull, he released a slow, deep breath into the quiet room, his knees weak. 

_ How did we get...here? _

His head was pulled gently aside, leaving him vulnerable to the teeth that raked him and holding him steady as his body responded with frightening intensity. Even as he was guided back, braced against a chest made from silk and steel, he trembled and found himself unable to resist trapping a lip between his teeth, biting hard, swallowing the moan that stuck in his throat while lurid heat and flashes of delicious pain nibbled a path from his neck to his shoulder. His hands flexed against his thighs, unsure, unsteady with the rare feeling of inexperience. Was he supposed to respond, to return the touch…? A rough palm slid around to his belly, smoothing against the landscape of musculature and slinking its way along until he felt his nipple trapped in a sharp pinch, drawing a sharp cry of shock and lust from his throat.

A velvety chuckle at his ear, taunting the delicate flesh there with heated breath: “Good. Let me hear you.”

He grunted, attempting to shift away from the arms that held him captive, hissing when the fingers at his chest rewarded his efforts with a salacious twist. Even as his thoughts tumbled over themselves, desperate to connect the dots of the journey that had brought him to this moment, his body betrayed him to the other man. His lips parted to question, to challenge, but all that escaped him was a low, throaty moan as slick heat found its way under his jawline, silencing him. The touches that enticed him now were unlike anything he remembered; he wasn't entirely estranged by a man's touch, but he’d been the aggressor in those ballets, protecting his mind by playing a part even as he’d bared his body. 

Now, however, he found himself revealing a vulnerability he hadn’t intended, unable to hide from the one man who had never been quite so easily dazzled by Marshall Law.

The hand in his hair released to join the other, mirroring its actions with the other bud on his chest while the lips at his skin continued their advances, whispering to him without words, undeniably masculine and yet agonizing in their pliancy. The contrast between the pain at his chest and the sweetness at his throat was overwhelming, stirring his loins into a unique, thrumming need he’d never have expected out of such an encounter. The sensation was foreign; he’d felt the hands of many others on his body before, but never such a commanding presence, and the relief of near-fully surrendering to the calloused palms that soothed the beautiful ache on his chest was as thrilling as it was intimidating. 

_ How is it moving so fast…? _

He growled in frustration, his mind a tempest of uncertainty even as his hands moved to grasp at the other man’s wrists, dragging the caress down his body in a fit of impatience. He waited for the scolding, braced for it after years of childish behavior being reprimanded, and gasped as he instead felt the hands on his body take hold of him in a rough embrace. His head fell backward, his hands reaching up to sink themselves in the thick blonde mess that tickled him as his length was stroked from base to tip in a grip like a vice, each inch of him milked with deliberate slowness until a traitorous bead of arousal appeared at the head, dripping languidly onto the steady hand of the man who’d ensnared him.

When one hand vanished, the other appeared, cradling his balls expertly and massaging him further, distracting him from the glint of his own arousal being raised to his lips. 

Charles’s voice was in his ear again, his lips feather-light as they brushed against him while he spoke. “ _ Ci defaid bach,  _ do you want this?”

His thoughts split for a moment, torn halfheartedly between staying and leaving, but as the chest at his back pressed against him with each breath, as the hand at his groin continued to roll him gently, teasing him into an almost painful state of desire, he turned his head just far enough to meet the cat-like gaze over his shoulder and smirked. He was emotionally exhausted, spent from his recent rift from the stunning vixen who’d shared his bed last, and the temptation of physical release paired with the bliss of surrender spurred him to take the pale skin before him into his mouth and, maintaining his gaze, lap gently at the evidence of his desire. 

He wanted the escape. He wanted to lose himself, to run from the oppressive cloud of  _ feeling _ so hard for so long, and when blue eyes widened for just a split second before narrowing into a cool, predatory stare, he knew he'd found it. The brief flash of dilated pupils as his tongue danced over the other man's knuckle had been everything he'd been looking for that evening: surprise, control, lust. Knocking the man off his high horse for once by giving him a taste of his own medicine. He pushed it one step further and turned his head away to rest squarely against the blonde's shoulder, eyes closed as he ran the tip of his tongue across his top lip to linger in the corner of his smile.

_ What game am I playing here, with him? _

The quiet grunt at his shoulder was the only indicator he would get that, even just for a moment, he'd taken the other man's composure. The blonde was rare, and safe, at least for what they needed from each other--there would be no heart to heart, no cuddling, no concern. He starved for the disconnected pleasure of an encounter for which he would not have to do damage control. He hungered for the flare of a dance after which he would not have to hide the darkness that crushed him, stifling the explanation that always teetered desperately at the tip of his tongue before it was swallowed back down. 

In return, he could be the neutral counterpart, holding neither the man's heart nor his thoughts hostage. Transactional. He needed no reassurance, no training, no reminders to stay behind the lines the stoic businessman had carved into the sand in wounded defense of his shattered heart. He could simply be a body, a bit of warmth to weather the raging storm both inside and out, just this once.

He turned at long last, palms flat against the toned chest that met him. A gentle press, curious and quietly delighted when the blonde allowed himself to be guided backward toward his own bed. Even as they slowly approached he couldn't resist testing the unspoken rules ever further, curling a hand around the other man's neck and pulling him into a crushing kiss. He allowed no time to recover from the shock before his lips parted and he tasted of the blonde, the contact rough with stubble and strength and blessedly  _ new _ , so different from the petal-soft ambrosia he'd had and lost. 

Charles indulged him for just a moment, returning the advance in kind before reaching up to place a wide palm against the brunette's throat. His grip was not entirely gentle, but practiced, guiding the man away from his face and down onto the mattress in a silent command. It was more effortless than he'd expected, engaging Ben this way, even as he held his hand steady against the fluttering pulse at his fingertips in a wordless scold for his boldness. 

_ What have I become? _

He stared down at the wild eyes beneath him, maintaining his presence, eternally grateful for the excuse to slide back into comfortable coldness. He had eyes like his sister, inescapable even as the chiseled body beneath his hands writhed unlike any other. He scoffed, irritated that even now she seemed to penetrate his very existence, insistent that she remain the center of his attention despite his extensive...corrections. Leaning down, he kept his hand tight underneath his charge's jaw as the other snuck between his legs as a reminder of his earlier tease, wrapping around the hardened length there and squeezing deliciously. "Don't move."

"Wh--huh?"

Charles slipped his hand upward to plant a finger against the lips that parted for him despite the confusion. He wanted no reminders tonight, no connections to any of the recent temptations who continued to lure him into dangerous territory. He didn't want to think about Eva, the hellcat who had shown him what he was truly capable of until he'd been forced to break her as he himself had been broken. He left his partner on the bed and approached the side table to retrieve the blindfold he kept there, feeling unusually skittish about risking any reminders of Rosewood and her desperate need for reassurance, the constant unspoken request to be lauded even as he found himself wanting inside of her.

He narrowed his eyes as Ben followed him with his own, a stare the color of strong, dark tea on a snowy morning. He certainly did  _ not _ need a reminder of eyes that same color looking up at him over a mug of cocoa and marshmallows, innocent and illuminated with radiant awe at the smallest gestures, happy just to be noticed and yet unaware that they were, in that moment, the only thing in the world…

Lifting the brunette's head from the comforter and pulling him up into a sitting position, he made quick work of fastening the silk securely around the gaze that held such power over him, disgusted by the relief that he felt over wanting to focus only on the pleasure of pairing their bodies together. It was much easier then, to guide the other man to his chest, to allow his eyes to fall shut and lose himself in the sensation of stubble and teeth and quiet, breathless moans much lower than the others he'd drawn in the past. He could feel his body responding to the advances even as his mind reeled desperately to focus as much as his loins did.

_ Is this really just a distraction? _

There were hands on him now, the callused palms odd in their newness but not undesirable, drawing a long, tense hiss from between his teeth as they raked his abs with blunted fingernails. He slid his own hands back into the black mane that trailed lower, encouraging the wet heat that slid along his belly, rewarding the tongue that dipped into his navel with a shuddering sigh. He could hear the other man moving, sliding down off of the bed for better access, and braced himself against what he knew came next.

His eyes remained closed, his head back in composed rapture as the head of his erection slipped past parted lips to be teased, the feeling of Ben's tongue curling around the sensitive tip sending electricity through his veins. He kept one hand at the back of his head, the other hung steady at his side while he stood, blissfully lost in the sensation of being swallowed. He could feel the other man's desire to hasten the action and admired his enthusiasm but held him back deliberately, teasing both of them, in no real hurry to chase the inevitable return to introspection.

_ Is it really just this once? _

Ben shivered, bracing himself with his hands on narrow hips as he worked his way along the swollen length against his tongue. It was surprisingly challenging to take it all in and he was grateful that Charles was patient with him, his jaw working to inch further along and his lips careful to keep his teeth in check. He allowed himself to indulge in the privately smug pride that welled within him when he could feel the other man throb with arousal in response. When he could go no further, he pulled back, sucking as he went and groaning deep in his throat when the fingers in his hair tensed at the sensation. He teased the man for a bit, exploring, experimenting, before finally reaching up to grasp at what his mouth couldn't reach.

He pumped himself with his other hand, not quite taking his time but keeping an even pace for both of them, encouraged by the guttural whispers in foreign tongue that escaped the blonde from time to time. The blindfold that robbed him of his vision was an unexpected boon, taking away the last vestiges of familiarity to leave him only with a body to please. He worked diligently, mirroring the techniques he knew that he, himself enjoyed, until unexpectedly he felt his head pulled away entirely before his body was pressed back into the bedding once again.

Before he could ask, there was a long, slender finger against his mouth. He lapped at it, his tongue recreating his earlier motions until it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He gasped, his body immediately tense as he felt his entrance teased by the digit, gentle and seeking in its advance. He forced himself to breathe deeply, to relax and embrace the sensation, inviting the other man by canting his hips toward him. Charles obliged, slipping past the tight ring of flesh with cautious indulgence, smirking at the groan that answered him.

The blonde worked efficiently, reading the body beneath him and responding in kind as he stretched the other man, surprised at how similar it was to the last time he'd approached such a request. He was diligent as he prepared his partner, stroking the ample erection that lay waiting against a landscape of taut muscle, soaking in the unfettered gasps and moans that increased in volume the further his fingers curled inside of his body. 

_ Is it really just for the escape? _

Time blurred for both of them as pleasure mounted and the temperature rose, the storm outside calming to a pattering drizzle. Ben huffed in disappointment as the delicious, filling presence of Charles' fingers left his body before he was turned and pressed into the bedding, the fabric of the duvet delicious and cool against his heated body. He sprawled for a moment and listened to the blonde shuffling through the bedside table once more, halfway curious about his intentions but lacking any real motivation to fight back after his body had been drawn to the edge of bliss and back. 

Within moments, he gasped as the other man's lithe body covered his own, their skin sticky with sweat and desire. He found the weight oddly comforting even as pearly teeth found their way into his back once more, biting along his shoulder blades and prompting him to cry out in pain and pleasure. His fingers clenched into the velvety fabric of the spread beneath him as Charles pressed against his entrance once more, his arms sneaking up under Ben's to hold him steady as he entered him. 

They gasped in unison.

Charles' pace was clipped only by his insistence on drawing more madness from the man beneath him, moving against his body in short, deep strokes that lacked the typical patience demanded of him. The brunette beneath him bared his teeth, lost in transition somewhere between pain and ecstasy, moving against the blonde to meet his thrusts as the dichotomy of sensations turned his thoughts to kinetic desire. The pleasure was bright and burning as he pressed back into the hips that sat flush against him, tunneling his thoughts into one solitary, silent plea: more _. _

_ Should it really feel this...good? _

The blonde panted, his forehead pressed between tensed shoulders as he thrust, unwilling to hold back now that he was encased in his partner's body. Leaning back, he planted his hands on either side of the muscled torso beneath him and angled himself, jaw clenched and brow furrowed as he finally let go. He needn't worry about accommodation, about playing a role or keeping a carefully calculated distance. It wasn't about building confidence or treading lightly now, simply carnal pleasure and pure distraction. His eyes raked the other man's body until they came to light on the spot where he could watch himself sink into the rounded ass that bounced back to meet him despite his brutal pace and he found himself surprised that he was unable to look away.

Ben cried out underneath him, his fingers tangled in the bed clothes for leverage as he pushed himself up and backward until he was on his hands and knees, intoxicated from the sensation of being filled so deliberately. He'd always known he enjoyed this, having teased and pleasured himself over the years to make up for his partners' lack of accommodation. Monica had done her best, but as it turned out, there simply was no substitution for experience. He could feel his body tensing against the euphoria and embraced it, letting it build within him without restriction, grateful to be the one out of control for once. When he felt a strong hand slide against his skull to pull his hair back as he was pressed down to his elbows, he lost what little composure he had left, crying out against the onslaught of rapture.

"Ch--Charles--" He sucked in a deep breath, feeling beautifully weak and powerless against the fire in his belly, "Please, I'm so close--"

To his surprise, the blonde pressed something into his hand. He'd actually forgotten he was blindfolded until he realized that he couldn't look down to see what it was, then nearly laughed out loud when he realized the other man had actually given him a small towel so as not to soil the comforter. At least there was  _ some _ normalcy to be had. He clutched it against his thigh and surrendered to the man, back arched and lips parted while his body was used until he finally choked, feeling the last tenuous barrier between Heaven and Hell shattering like fragile glass. Soft cloth enveloped his manhood as he came, catching the evidence of the ecstasy that forced him to shiver and moan through wave after wave of pulsating, heightened bliss.

_ Was it always like this? _

Charles growled. He could feel the burn in his legs and back and knew he'd likely be feeling it much longer than just this evening, strangely grateful for the challenge as he pushed himself to continue the punishing pace. Distantly he could hear the profanity and praise tumbling from the brunette beneath him as he thrust relentlessly, uncaring, holding the other body in a steel grip as he chased his own release. A rare treat, he mused, to give himself permission to be selfish, to simply indulge in the disconnection of mutual understanding. His teeth ground together as he finally let go of the wild spikes in favor of wrapping his hands around the other man's hips, pulling his body against his loins to meet each thrust, trembling with need.

It would figure, he chuckled darkly as the tension finally peaked, that the most powerful relief he could ultimately find was in the one person he'd never deemed a threat. He shuddered, baring his teeth in a low hiss and pulling Ben's body to his own as his orgasm ripped through his body, sending stars across his vision and lava through his veins. There was no fanfare to follow, no banter or shy smiles or lewd compliments; Charles simply pulled away from Ben's body and slid the protection from himself, careful to tie it before he tossed it in the waste bin, and wiped the sweat from his brow.

_...so what now? _

The brunette slid the blindfold from his face, impressed to find that Charles had managed not to catch his hair in the tie when he'd placed it. Still comfortably suspended in a cozy haze, he turned out of habit, the usual pet names and romantic fluff poised on the tip of his tongue. The eyes that met his were a different blue, however--much too cold, too harsh--and the reality check shot through his body like ice. He froze, the ache in his chest unbearable but still not nearly enough to force his eyes away, and he found himself in a stalemate.

Charles sighed to himself. Though his body was satisfied, he found himself unsurprised that his mind still replaced the wary brown eyes in front of him with another pair altogether. Of course it wouldn't have been so simple, such an easy answer to a question that had been haunting him for months. He held the other man's gaze a moment longer, placidly disappointed in himself, before he reached out and offered him a hand to help him up. There were a hundred different things he could say here, perhaps nothing at all, but neither were necessary as the man he'd seen transform from bright adolescent to broken soul graced him with a rare, shy smile.

"Guess we better keep this short and sweet, huh?"

Subtext. Charles wouldn't have given him the credit, but behind the weak mask, he could see the sinister pollution of depression already clouding the crystal-clear pleasure that had lingered in his eyes moments before. The feelings it stirred within him were frighteningly empathetic even as he suppressed them, choosing instead to snort dismissively and step back to approach the shower.

"If you were looking for a candlelit bath afterward, I am afraid I must disappoint." He raked his hair back indelicately and paused before he reached the master bath, glancing over his shoulder at the man who was already half-dressed in his bedroom. His heart cried out for connection, for any indication that he was not the monster he suspected, and even as he tried valiantly to crush the longing into submission, he found that even he was no match for loneliness. "Should you find yourself needing anything further, you…"

Ben looked up to him, pausing in the midst of buttoning his shirt, his gaze a tragic mirror of the blonde’s own desperation for a lifeboat in an ocean of isolation. 

"...you know how to reach me."

_ How did it come to this? _

The brunette smiled, a fleeting, sad flash before he finished with his attire and tossed a jaunty, two-fingered salute. 

"I'll see you next time."

  
  



End file.
